What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?
by Little Whinger
Summary: Harry spends the day after Christmas alone, wondering about the future of his relationship with Draco. Reviews appreciated! And the usual disclaimers apply...I don't own Harry, Draco, Kreacher, or any of the other characters, locations, etc.


**What Are You Doing New Year's Eve?**

By Little Whinger

* This story takes place about three months after my previous story, "Piano in the Dark", and about one year prior to my first story, "Tied Up, With A Bow". *

* * *

_Maybe it's much too early in the game,  
Ah, but I thought I'd ask you just the same:  
What are you doing New Year's,  
New Year's Eve?_

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had officially been dating for a little over a month, though they'd been involved casually for a couple of months prior to that. But Harry still wasn't quite sure where things stood between them.

He knew that he enjoyed Draco's company, and that Draco felt the same.

He knew that Draco enjoyed spending time at Harry's house and playing the piano in the main living room of Grimmauld Place, and Harry enjoyed having Draco there, and hearing the music that Draco coaxed out of the instrument.

He knew that he enjoyed spending intimate time with Draco, and he was reasonably certain that Draco enjoyed this, as well. Certainly the ecstatic sounds he made would lead one to believe so.

And yet their first Christmas as a couple had been spent separated. Draco had gone to spend the holiday with his mother, Narcissa, at her villa in France, while Harry had spent the holiday at the Burrow with the Weasleys, as had been the tradition since he was a kid. They both knew that things would be awkward in either situation if the other were there.

Harry knew that Narcissa harbored no enmity toward him, and in fact was quite pleased to learn that he and Draco were together, but Draco knew that Harry was not quite ready to spend the holiday with her, any more than Harry knew that Draco was ready to spend it with the Weasleys. In the years since the war, Draco had proven time and again that he was no longer his father's son, and that he held no allegiance with the Death Eaters, despite the fading Mark on his arm, but relations between Draco and the Weasleys and Harry's other friends were still strained, much to Harry's disappointment, and Draco's, as well.

And so it happened that Harry awoke late the morning after Christmas, alone, pondering the status of their relationship, and missing Draco much more than he ever imagined he could.

This was certainly not the first morning after Christmas that he'd woken up alone. The fact of the matter is that it was the first time in his entire life that he'd been in any kind of a romantic relationship around the holidays, save for his awkward teenage years with Ginny, before he'd come to realize that he wasn't really interested in anything on her below the neck.

But the fact that he _was_ in a relationship and still woke up alone made it that much harder.

Climbing out of bed and walking down to the kitchen, he saw Kreacher standing at the stove.

"Kreacher has coffee for Master," the elf croaked. "Breakfast is almost ready."

"Thank you, Kreacher," Harry said, stepping past him and pulling a coffee mug down from the shelf and pouring himself a cup.

Over the last several years, the relationship between Harry and Kreacher had improved, somewhat. Harry suspected the elf still felt a measure of contempt for him, but Kreacher continued to do his job, keeping any objections to himself. Of course, Hermione disapproved of his keeping a house-elf, but Harry also knew that Kreacher was inextricably attached to Grimmauld Place, and wouldn't be put out of his job by anyone or anything. But Harry privately vowed to never replace him.

"Will Master Malfoy be joining us, today?" Kreacher asked as he set a plate of eggs, bacon and toast in front of Harry.

"I imagine so," Harry said, taking a bite of toast and adding, "at some point."

After breakfast, Harry went back upstairs and took a long, hot shower and slipped into some comfy sweatpants and a black tank top, then went down to the living room, passing the curtains that hung in front of Walburga Black's portrait, and hearing Kreacher talking in whispers to the painting.

"Tell the old bat 'hullo' for me," Harry muttered to himself with a smirk. After all these years, Harry still had not been able to rid the house of her cursed, cursing portrait. Kreacher managed to keep it quiet, which was another reason to keep him around, Harry supposed.

Stepping into the living room, he gazed at the Christmas tree in the corner, thinking back to the night the week before that he and Draco had spent decorating it.

Draco still kept his own flat in London, near the Ministry, but in the last couple of months since Harry had opened the Floo to him so he could come and go as he pleased to play the piano, Draco had spent a considerable amount of time at Grimmauld Place.

Considering this, Harry strode over to the tree, absently dragging his fingers over the keys of the piano as he passed it. Standing in front of the tree, he let his eyes pass from one ornament to another, a smirk creeping onto his lips as he recalled how they had playfully sparred over the placement of each one. Draco was very particular (Harry's actual term had been 'anal') about how the tree was to be decorated, while Harry's approach was a bit more relaxed and carefree (Draco's exact words had been 'ridiculous' and 'careless'). Of course, Harry had allowed Draco to have his way with the decorating, because truthfully he'd been happy to have someone to do it who was so exacting and careful.

After spending several minutes looking at the tree, Harry turned and settled onto the smushy old armchair by the window, picked up the book sitting on the table next to it, and started reading, waiting for Draco.

* * *

_Wonder whose arms will hold you good and tight  
When it's exactly twelve o'clock that night,  
Welcoming in the New Year  
New Year's Eve._

Several hours later, Kreacher shuffled into the living room.

"Will Master be eating in the dining room, or down in the kitchen?" he asked. Harry started at the sound of the elf's voice, and glanced out the window to see that it had gotten dark out.

"Wow...where did the time go?" Harry asked, straightening from his curled posture in the chair and stretching out his sore back, looking up at the clock above the mantle. Its hands indicated the time was 6:07. "Um...I guess in the kitchen, since it's just me, tonight," he said, disappointment coloring his tone.

"Yes, sir...dinner is ready," Kreacher said, his arm stretched out toward the hall door. Harry closed the book and set it back on the table and stood, his back twinging from being curled in the chair for so long.

Following Kreacher down to the kitchen, wonderful aromas made their way up the stairs to him. He found the table laden with roasted chicken, buttered potatoes, steamed carrots and fresh-baked bread.

"It smells fantastic, Kreacher, thank you," Harry said, his mood brightening slightly at the sight and smell of the food. Sitting down at the single place that had been set for him, he served himself potatoes and carrots and sliced a leg from the chicken.

As he tucked in, Harry wondered if Draco would be there at all that night. _Maybe Mrs. Malfoy asked him to stay another day_, he thought. _But he would have Flooed to let me know that, wouldn't he?_

Once he'd eaten his fill, he stood from the table and went back up to the living room, settling onto the sofa in front of the fireplace, wrapping a throw blanket around himself, wishing it was Draco's arms, and switched on the telly, turning channels until he settled on a rerun of one of his favorite Muggle sit-coms, though it did little to buoy his mood. Adverts between segments kept showing couples smiling, celebrating the holiday, or kissing on New Year's, and it just made Harry miss Draco all the more.

"Wonder what we'll do on New Year's?" Harry thought aloud.

Occasionally, a log would settle in the grate, causing the fire to flare a bit, and Harry would watch it, waiting for the flames to turn green and for Draco, or at least his head, to appear in the Floo.

Finally, around 10pm, Harry gave up on the telly, switched it off, flung off the blanket, and trod up the stairs to his bedroom. Not bothering to get undressed, he slipped under the covers and curled himself around an extra pillow.

"Goodnight, Dray," he sighed to himself. "I love you." It didn't take long before he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

_Maybe I'm crazy to suppose  
I'd ever be the one you chose  
Out of the thousand invitations  
You'll receive._

"Harry?" a voice came. Harry stirred a little, thinking he was hearing a voice in his dreams, and wrapped his arms tighter around the pillow. A few seconds later, the voice repeated, a little louder this time, "Harry?" With this, he felt a gentle nudge on his shoulder. Opening his eyes, he realized there was a figure sitting on the edge of the bed. His Auror instincts kicking in, he sat bolt upright, reaching for his wand as the figure was illuminated by wandlight from its own wand.

"D-Draco!" Harry stuttered, groggily, recognizing the form even without his glasses. "Are you really here?" he asked, reaching for him. Draco's figure leaned closer, coming into focus, a smile curling his lips.

"No, I'm a figment of your addled imagination," Draco murmured, then planted a kiss on Harry's lips, which Harry leaned into, gratefully, pulling him close in a strong hug.

After several seconds, they separated for breath and Draco leaned his forehead against Harry's.

"I'm sorry I didn't Floo earlier," he whispered. "Mother's been more melancholy this year than most." He hesitated before continuing. "Today would have been the 30th anniversary of my parents' wedding." Harry frowned slightly.

"Oh...I didn't know," Harry said, reaching up and cupping Draco's cheek. "I'm sorry, Dray." He brushed his thumb across Draco's cheekbone as Draco nodded once.

"Thank you," he said. "I should have called you and let you know I was okay...I'm sure you were worried." Harry nodded a bit. "I'm sorry," Draco muttered, and kissed Harry again.

"It's alright," Harry said, "you're okay, and you're here now." Draco smiled, a glint in his eye.

"What?" Harry said, a curious smile curling his lip.

"I've missed you," Draco murmured, deeply, and leaned in for another kiss, which Harry gladly returned. After not too long, the two of them were undressing each other as Draco climbed onto the bed, their kissing becoming more heated and passionate.

* * *

_Ah, but in case I stand one little chance,  
Here comes the jackpot question in advance:  
What are you doing New Year's  
New Year's Eve? _

An hour later, Harry and Draco lay in each other's arms, both thoroughly sated. Harry reached up and brushed a few strands of Draco's long, blond hair out of his face and smiled at him, happily and sleepily, and a scene from one of the adverts on telly flashed in his mind.

"Say, Dray?" he murmured, gently stroking Draco's arm.

"Mmmm...?" Draco hummed, softly.

"What are you doing...New Year's Eve?" Harry asked, smiling and leaning in for a kiss.

Finite.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Okay, yes...yet again, I've jumped back within the timeline of my mini-series. It was just a part of the story I wanted to tell. And this is my first attempt at a song fic, so I hope you liked it.

As to the reference to Lucius and Narcissa's anniversary, no, J.K. Rowling has never specified a date. The Harry Potter Wiki page for Narcissa Malfoy gives the window of "sometime between 1972 and September 1979" for when she married Lucius. Placing their wedding day on December 26, 1976, puts their 30th anniversary in 2006, and gave me a plausible excuse for Draco's absence.

"What Are You Doing New Year's Eve" Music and Lyrics by Frank Loesser, © 1947 (Renewed) Frank Music Corp. All Rights Reserved.


End file.
